12. Felix #2
I can’t see him when he’s on his side of the room without moving and letting him know I’m still awake, so I track him through the sounds of him getting ready for bed.
The rustle of clothes, a drawer opening.
Heavy shoes hitting the floor, and the clink of his watch when he puts it on his bedside table.
There’s some more rustling, then he’s walking across my line of sight and heading to the bathroom. I stare at the rectangle of light that shines around the closed door as he does his nightly routine.
I’ve been regretting my decision to not take any sleep aids tonight since about five minutes after I lay down. I hoped he’d crash wherever he spends his nights when he’s not here, but no such luck.
The light in the bathroom goes off, and the door opens.
I trace my gaze over him as he walks back to his side of the room.
The room is mostly dark except for some ambient light coming through the windows, but the shadows only enhance his physique and show off the many dips and curves of his muscles.
Killian pauses when he’s halfway across the room and glances in my direction. I can’t see his face, and I know it’s too dark for him to see that I’m awake, but I can practically feel his gaze on me as he stares at my bed for a few beats before continuing on his way to his side of the room.
His bed creaks as he gets settled, then the room is silent again.
I’m just letting my mind wander when I hear something. Breathing, but not normal breathing. It’s labored and heavy. Then there’s a soft sigh, a sharp inhale, and a long exhale.
I freeze when I hear him moan. Is he jerking off?
I spent four years at boarding school before coming to Silvercrest, so I’m no stranger to the quiet late-night jerk-it-when-your-roomie-is-asleep method of getting off.
I’ve heard multiple roommates doing solo time over the years, the same as they’ve heard me, but it’s different when it’s Killian on the other side of the room.
With my old roommates, I just shut out the sounds and ignored them. I didn’t picture them spread out on their beds and working their dicks, but that’s exactly what I’m doing now as I listen to my stepbrother get himself off.
His low moans and gentle, panting breaths are so different from the last time I heard his pleasure sounds. Those were loud and aggressive and unrestrained.
My body tightens, and my face and chest flush hot as the image of Killian standing over me and jerking off invades my senses.
That was so hot, and I still don’t even understand why.
Having him over me like that, the things he was saying, none of it should be sexy.
But what’s even more messed up is that it wasn’t his orgasm or even the moment I saw his genuine surprise when I chose to blow him that made everything so erotic—it was finally letting go.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t play a part and just let myself be in the moment. I said what was on my mind, I did what I wanted, and I loved every second of his filthy mouth and how he so easily took me apart like he memorized my instruction manual.
His breathing picks up, and he lets out another soft moan that goes straight to my already hard dick.
I hold still, barely daring to breathe so he doesn’t realize I’m awake. I want so badly to jerk off with him, to remember how good he felt, how hard he made me come. But I don’t.
Instead I close my eyes and focus on the sounds coming from the other side of the room.
His breathing picks up, and his moans grow louder as he gets closer to his orgasm.
My body is burning up, and my dick is screaming at me for some attention, but all I can think about is how much I want to hear him finish.
I get my wish a second later when I hear him let out a low groan. Then his breathing changes again, going from fast and strained to even and sated.
“What did you think of the show, little brother?”
Killian’s voice is so sudden and unexpected I freeze. Oh shit.
“You can keep pretending you’re asleep if you want,” he continues, his bed creaking under him as he presumably cleans himself up. “But we both know you aren’t.”
“How did you know?” I ask, my voice raspy.
“Call it brotherly intuition,” he says conversationally. “And you never answered me. Did you enjoy the show?”
I don’t answer.
He huffs out a throaty laugh. “Yeah you did. I bet you’re hard right now, aren’t you? You got off listening to your big bro jerk it. Admit it.”
“So what if I did? It sounds like you got off jerking it for me.”
“Maybe,” he says casually. “Do you know what I was thinking about?”
“What?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer. He’s probably going to tell me about the last girl he hooked up with or some other crazy story from his sexcapades.
“I was thinking about how much better it would be if it was your mouth around my cock and not my hand.”
He says it so casually, like he’s telling me what his favorite color is or that he needs to get an oil change for his car.
“You liked sucking my dick, didn’t you? I’m taking silence as a yes, FYI.”
I keep quiet.
He chuckles. “I bet I could have walked right up to your bed and told you to do it again, and you would have.”
Again, I don’t say anything.
“Now use your words like a good boy and tell me how much you enjoyed sucking my dick.”
“I liked it,” I scrape out.
“Tell me how much,” he prompts. “Don’t hold back. I want details.”
“It was…hot.”
He lets out another throaty laugh. “You really need to work on your dirty talk. Is that all I get? It was hot?”
“I’ve never…”
“Sucked a guy off?”
“No.”
“I figured as much. You did good. Ten out of ten, no notes.”
“Have you ever…”
Jesus, why can’t I finish a damn sentence right now?
“No.”
I want to ask him to elaborate, but I can’t get the words out. Is he saying he’s never sucked off a guy, or that he’s never hooked up with one before?
As far as I know, Killian is straight, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been having some dude-on-dude fun on the DL all these years.
“Goodnight, little brother. Sweet dreams.”
“Night,” I mumble, not sure what else to say.
Less than five minutes later, Killian’s breathing evens out, and it sounds like he’s fallen asleep.
I’m still half-hard, but I ignore my dick and roll onto my back so I can stare up at the intricate ceiling. I’m not about to risk getting caught jerking off if he’s bluffing.
Sighing, I pull the cover up under my chin and brace for another night of tossing and turning.
Panic flows through me like floodwaters crashing through a dam as I jerk awake. My throat is burning, and it takes a second to realize that the screaming I hear is coming from me.
“What the fuck?” Killian bellows from his side of the room.
“Sorry!” I gasp, tearing the covers from around me so I can sit up. “Sorry,” I repeat, dragging my fingers over the skin on my throat. There’s nothing there, but it feels like a scarf is wrapped around my neck and it’s squeezing tighter with every breath I manage to drag in.
“What happened?” Killian’s more alert, but definitely still pissed at being woken up.
“Nightmare,” I choke out and toss the covers right off me. I’m too hot, but the cool air does nothing to help soothe my heated skin.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I almost sound normal and not like my heart is thudding so hard in my chest it feels like I’m vibrating with each rapid pulse.
“Then shut the fuck up and go back to sleep,” he grumbles.
“Yeah. Okay. Sorry.” I lay back down.
Every one of my senses is on high alert, and it takes everything I have to stay still until Killian’s breathing evens out again.
As soon as I’m sure he’s asleep, I scramble out of bed and hurry over to my desk. Being as silent as possible, I pull my safe book off the shelf and root around until I find the right bottle.
Moving as fast as I dare, I shake two pills out and take them dry. Killian doesn’t stir once as I put the book away and climb back into bed.
Once I’m under the covers again, I close my eyes and start counting. They should start hitting in twenty minutes. I just need to hold on until they do.